Promises
by LilyBolt
Summary: Because he wouldn't break his last promise to Sam like he had broken his first... A oneshot from Dean's POV. Spoilers for season 5 finale, and most of season 6. Not a slash fiction.


**Author's Note: This is a little something that came to mind as I thought about that (very sad) image of Dean on his knees after Sam jumped into the cage. Reviews are always appreciated! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters. Because wishes apparently don't always come true. :P **

**Promises**

Dean's knees rested in the grass, and his head hung low. He stared at the uneven green stalks, watching as deep red droplets sprinkled over them. His own blood, bleeding from his thoroughly beaten face. He didn't care. He watched the dark goo fall to the ground, and couldn't help but hope he would just die here from his wounds. He knew that would be breaking his promise to Sammy. He had promised to try for a normal life. Promised to find Lisa and Ben and build something for himself. But hey, it wouldn't be the first time he broke a promise, would it? After all, the first promise he ever made in his life was to look after Sammy.

_Sammy. _The name floated in his mind, causing him more pain than he had ever felt in all of his existence. It hurt worse than Hell, and he wished he would just drop from his injuries already so he wouldn't have to feel that piercing ache any longer. _Sammy._ His little brother. His gigantic little brother who he had raised, and loved, and sworn to protect from everything dark in the world. His brother, who he had just allowed to dive into the pit of Hell for all of eternity. Yeah, he had broken his promise.

Dean wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Whether it was because his injuries had damaged his tear ducts, or because he still couldn't bring himself to believe what had just happened, his eyes remained dry. He continued to stare blankly at the ground, silently willing it to open again and spew his brother out back to him. "Sammy." Dean whispered softly.

The hunter thought of all the times he had doubted his brother, and felt that he needed to protect him, because Sam was too vulnerable for the world. He saw now how wrong he had been. Sam was strong. Stronger than any man, probably. He had fought off the devil and won. And yet Dean wished his brother had been weak. Wished that he had failed, and that the apocalypse had come, and that the world had gone to Hell just so his brother wouldn't have needed to. Dean felt his shoulders begin to quake and heard his own dry sobs fill the air.

No, that wasn't right. He wouldn't insult Sam's sacrifice with thoughts like those. He would be strong, because he had made a promise. He had promised his Sammy that he would keep going, and if he could do nothing more for his brother, he would do that. Because he wouldn't break his last promise to Sam like he had broken his first. And with that thought, the tears finally began to fall.

_SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN _

Dean sat next to Sam in the Impala, still reveling in the glorious presence of his brother. His _real_ brother. Soul and all. They were on their way out from Bobby's, and Dean was in the best mood he had been in a long time. "Hey, Dean…" Sam said. "Hmm?" Dean replied absent mindedly. "Um, I just. You know, I just wanted to thank you. For keeping your promise about trying to build a life." Sam said, his tone indicating that he had clearly wanted to say this for a while. Dean glanced over at the taller man and noted the slightly uncomfortable, but very sincere expression on his face. Dean's stomach did a little flip-flop. He remembered how much he had wanted to die, that day at Stull Cemetery. How much he had wanted nothing more than to break his promise to Sam and end it right then and there.

His guilt must've shown in his eyes, because Sam looked at him and said, "I know you didn't want to. I know I was asking a lot. But you still did it. You kept going, and you tried. I appreciate the lengths to which you're willing to go for me. I know you've always done everything you could to protect me, even when I was making it as hard as possible for you…" Dean felt his stomach roll again at the guilt of having not protected Sammy from Hell. But Sam didn't seem to notice that time, and continued talking.

"And I always knew you would be willing to die for me. But I think _living_ for someone has to be harder. Especially after a loss like that. I remember after you went to Hell… Even though you had me swear I wouldn't, I tried to sell my soul to get you back, like, within the first week." Sam paused, as though remembering all of the hurt losing Dean had caused him. He cleared his throat and added, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, thanks. For not letting me down, even when I wasn't around to know it."

Dean looked at his little brother, who he knew he would never stop being grateful for having back, and smiled. "You're such a walking chick-flick Sammy." He teased. But as Dean turned his gaze back to the road he added, "You're welcome. Thanks for coming back." And suddenly Dean's stomach was finished with its guilt-driven tumbling routine. Because he hadn't let Sam down after all. He had kept the promise that apparently mattered most to his brother.


End file.
